


(nose)bleed

by eldritchbee



Series: Goretober 2020 [3]
Category: Witch's Heart (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Execution, F/F, Goretober, Goretober 2020, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Pre-Canon, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26826979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritchbee/pseuds/eldritchbee
Summary: Maybe it’s pity. Maybe it’s because Lime had no one else. But she doesn’t like to think of herself as one with that much sentimentality. Being a sentimental demon was like being a sentimental soldier, and those were the ones who lost their minds over and over again. And she doesn’t like to think that she’s lost her mind quite yet. Not more than any other Hater demon had.---Charlotte relives her death (day after day). Takes place some vague hundred years before canon. Spoilers for Charlotte's & Lime's memories.For Goretober 2020 (prompt #4: nosebleed)
Relationships: Charlotte/Lime (Witch's Heart)
Series: Goretober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950091
Kudos: 5





	(nose)bleed

The flames next to her die down as she picks bits of blister and scab from her skin. Lime has stopped screaming, stopped laughing, and freed from her flame turns to look at the scars Charlotte holds. She doesn’t know why she goes to Lime when she starts feeling blood drip down her lip, because it’s always after their personal hells settle down that Lime is the most  _ obnoxious _ . Just under a hundred years has made it more  _ bearable _ \- but being interrogated by a masochist just wasn’t her  _ favorite _ way to end a daily death sequence.

“You looked like you suffered mo~re than usual today, Charlie!” 

Maybe it’s pity. Maybe it’s because Lime had no one else. But she doesn’t like to think of herself as one with that much sentimentality. Being a sentimental demon was like being a sentimental soldier, and those were the ones who lost their minds over and over again. And she doesn’t like to think that she’s lost her mind quite yet. Not more than any other Hater demon had.

“How could you tell, your eyes were probably melted or something by the end.”

“You made more sounds today -” Lime grabs her, drags a thumb across her upper lip. She comes away with blood that she presents to Charlotte like a prize “- you called out, too. You said:  _ Papa  _ -”

Charlotte slaps her hand away.

“Then that’s all you get to know. So~rry,” and Charlotte has her scissors in hand, close to where she can see an artery pulse. 

Not that Lime cares.

She’s done far worse to herself and  _ laughed _ .

She’s laughing now, poking the end of Charlotte’s scissors. No, Charlotte  _ doesn’t _ know why she goes to Lime first when the plague sets in. “I just want to know how bad it  _ hurts _ .”

_ A lot.  _ Lime burned, and so did she. But the fevers had left her cold and clammy at the worst moments. Her hands tingled, then burned, then turned black and left her with no feeling at all. Blood leaked out of every part of her, and today she’d felt pressure behind her eyes, felt it leak down her nostril. She’d tried - stupidly, childishly - to plug it only for it to come out the other. Blocking both only led to it leaking back again, coming out from her mouth with the endless emesis. But that wasn’t the worst, Lime never understood the  _ worst _ . Crawling towards Papa, trying to clutch him close and have him wipe the blood and sweat from her face only for him to push her away in disgust. 

She didn’t always see him in her daily deaths, but it always made her feel more heavy when she did. 

(Being an emotional demon was like being an emotional daughter, looking for love and company as she lay dying. If he’d just wiped the sweat from her brow once, if he’d patted her head or said  _ I’m sorry, but I can’t _ , she wouldn’t be here. And it’s pathetic, how small a gesture it is for one to simply be there in your death. It leaves you open, when you expect someone to be there then they have a chance to disappoint you, after all. And it’s like being made a Hater all over again.

She does  _ not _ stay with Lime for her own sake. She is  _ not _ there for Lime’s final moments either. It’s a courtesy, not any sort of sentimental act. Not one of love or any of those tender feelings Haters shouldn't feel.)

“Char~lie? Nya, hey, Charlie!”

Lime’s burns are still bright and angry and red, the blisters broken and raw. Charlotte’s are still black and cold, and the feeling hasn’t yet come back to her limbs. She feels blood dripping down her lip again and turns to wipe it off on Lime’s sleeve.

_ (It’s a courtesy, not an act of love.) _

“Ew! Hey, what was that?”

She sticks her tongue out in response and tastes iron. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know how to make a nosebleed the center of a story, huh.


End file.
